


Braided Together

by writerjay



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Ava Starr and Hope are BEST friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hank still kind of sucks and Janet is still kind of DEAD lol, Luis is a photographer ugh an arTIST we stan, Microscope, Modeling, No one is a superhero, Scope - Freeform, Scott Lang is a Makeup Artist, ScottHope, and Dave and Kurt are there we love that, don't worry abt Hank, relatively slow updates i'm sorry, this isn't a real college although it probably is one, vandang, vanlang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerjay/pseuds/writerjay
Summary: Hope van Dyne is a junior attending San Francisco State. Her life didn’t expand much beyond the comforts of her apartment, the campus, her favorite food hotspots,  and the pier. After strong convincing from some friends that mean well, Hope takes on new hobbies.She didn't expect the guy assigned to help her was going to be as stubborn as she was. And she didn't expect that she'd find it kind of cute.A modeling/college AU.





	Braided Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Welcome to my first ever multichapter fic. I pray that I can do ScottHope some justice on the longterm with this AU, one that's been bouncing around in my mind since October. Whoops.
> 
> Anyways, this fic is purely indulgent, but I really did try my best to get these as characters accurately as I can to allow you to enjoy it as well. Let me know what I can work on!
> 
> Enjoy xx

****Whistling ferry boats. Birds. Breezing cars. Muffled shouts and street vendor barter. The general bustle and buzz of the city leaked through the slightly opened window and stirred Hope van Dyne awake, slash marks of sunshine spread across her bed sheets. The city was alive as always, and began to pick up its pace as the clock struck 8am.

She sighed into her pillow and relished in the feeling of sinking into cotton sheets for half a moment longer. As her natural clock demanded the day get started, Hope rolled over and out of bed, hopping on one leg as she assumed a pair of fresh denim to her legs and a soft, worn blouse onto her torso. She blew a strand of hair away from her face and hummed as she continued her morning routine, cursing when she found that her roommate had left the coffee pot empty and in the sink. Wandering the kitchen holding her empty mug, her eyes scanned the shelves and counter space.

A small yellow sticky note on the cabinet read, ‘ _I know a certain someone doesn’t have classes today,’_ a small winky face scrawled next to the note in Ava Starr’s curly handwriting. _‘Pick up that medium roast from Luis’ work today if you love me?_ ’

Hope stared at the note and rolled her eyes, folding it in half and sticking it back on the cabinet, their sign of telling the other that their message had been received. She and her roommate often swapped roles for the house duties on a regular basis, and got along like good friends, but Ava was never the best at remembering the needed groceries when it was her turn, more inclined to grab snacks and sweets before coffee and fresh food. Needless to say, Hope was constantly swinging by the shops downtown to cover last minute purchases, but she never minded. If she was never prompted a reason to leave the house besides school, she wouldn’t.

Hope is partially thankful for Ava’s free-spirited, unplanned ways of living. She’s been able to tolerate more people and more things the longer she’s known Ava, and it’s honestly convinced her to take more risks of her own. She’s been a student her entire life and enjoyed observing and learning about life, but Ava’s taught her how to live in more of its moments.

She shrugged a thin jacket on to brace the mist off of the pier, snatched up her keys and purse, and headed out for a day free of classes and errands– minus picking up one bag of coffee beans.

* * *

Walking down amongst the commotion of the street, Hope turned to see the brilliant green door of Foster’s Brew propped open. She smiled and casually reached up to hit the bell hanging above the door frame, quietly singing along to the soft music streaming out the jukebox. 

“Well, it’s been a minute since I last heard the voice of an angel,” a voice called out from behind the counter. Luis turned, beaming at her with wild eyes and placing his hands at his hips. “Hope! How ya doin’, girl?”

When Hope first met Luis as a barista who also attended her school, and he wormed his way into her life with his insistent yet friendly voice, Hope wanted to act like she didn’t like him.

He was quite the character. If Ava hadn’t been by her side when he first introduced himself, Hope would have turned around and left him without the tiniest shred of her time and attention. Though, that’s close to what happened when Luis first tried smooth talking the two women anyway.

She laughs at the memory of her roommate politely making it clear she was interested in women, and herself sitting next to Ava furiously googling different coffee places. Specifically ones with baristas that lacked the great deal of talkativeness that Luis had.

But Ava was one to give people second chances (“Damn _,_ Hope, he’s not horrible– plus, where else are you going to get coffee that _divine_?”) and later that same week Luis was back again leaning across the counter talking up a storm about how he swears he was in the same orientation group as Hope the year prior.

It was unbelievable how after a few minutes of friendly conversation she was basically explaining to him her entire schooling career as a result of her father’s neglect and her mother’s unexpected death. But by virtue of Luis’ nature, he comforted her in the way that it helped her forget how painful those experiences were for her. And she’s enjoyed his company ever since.

But despite how much he constantly complimented her (in the most platonic way possible), Hope still struggled to come back with comments just as witty. She decides to ignore the compliment. _It’s not like she was actually singing loud enough for him to hear_. Hope eyed him and pointed to the large paper bag on one of the shelves. “Just picking up what Ava always forgets to grab.”

“I’m beginning to think you forget to grab the house brew just because you want to see me more,” he chuckled. He saw her nod towards the chalkboard of drinks and began fixing up the order that he familiarized her with.

“Oh, you and I both know that’s _not_ true,” she teased, leaning on the counter. As Luis rolled his eyes and handed over her order, she tipped him generously and glanced around to see the coffeehouse fairly empty, much like her schedule. She found a seat and placed her head in her hands, sipping her coffee and watching the cars go by. After a few moments, Hope caught Luis staring. “What is it?”

Luis stepped from around the counter and leaned on the back of the barstool beside her. He hesitated with his words as his eyes grew to be pleading. “I’ve already asked you this before–”

Hope stopped him mid sentence and held a finger up as she took a long sip of her drink. Luis gulped and waited for her to lecture him.

Ever since he began organizing his portfolio, he always wanted to photograph her. Hope knew that his work was brilliant and he had worked with plenty of locations and people. His own boss at the coffeehouse, Bill Foster, had a couple of his photos decorating the space. And while Hope knew she was attractive, and felt attractive, she also felt like she’d tense up on camera and would turn out to be an awful subject to work with. She couldn’t do that to Luis; best she just keep denying him and save his time.

Thinking this, she cooly placed the cup back down on the wooden bartop, masking how exasperated she was that he even attempted to ask again. “C’mon, Luis,” she tried to sway him, biting her lip: “you know I’d love to help out with your portfolio work, but...perhaps behind the scenes?”

But he insisted. “Oh, Hope, I’ve got a great team with me already, we’ll make you feel right at home,” he pronounced. “Me and my guys? We’re great. And you’ll love hanging out with us for a day. We’re fun people and we’ll show you a good time, Hope!” he made himself excited at the thought.

Hope made a face of disappointment. _Did he even hear a word she had said?_ “Look, Luis, I love you, and your work, but I’m just not cut out for that stuff,” she wrinkled her nose and began to get up to leave. She didn’t have the time to argue about it again.

Luis grabbed her hand as she stood and he sighed.  “C’mon, Hope, you’re freaking beautiful, and it’ll only be just one time–” he struggled to think of more things to say. His grip grew tighter, and Hope wondered why he was hung up on this photoshoot. She furrowed her brows as he continued. “...I already photographed Ava, and those photos are up at your place. You and I both know her shots are _stunning_ as hell.”

The guy was right. Ava was gorgeous, and his photos were practically editorial quality–much like her roommate’s modeling technique. Hope felt like she couldn’t match up to who Luis had previously photographed.

Though after a moment of just standing there, thinking, she challenged herself to feel otherwise once she worked with Luis. Hope still had no idea why he was practically begging for her to do this. But he was seated with his forehead on the back of her hand, and she nearly laughed.

Slowly, Luis’ hand left hers and her eyes softened. “Alright,” she nodded. “Just one photoshoot,” she dealt.

Her friend stood up and gasped. “Forreal?” he asked in disbelief. When she nodded, he leaped and pulled her into a tight hug, “Oh shit, Hope, you won’t regret this! You’re gonna look jaw-dropping!” he exclaimed.

Hope yelped as she hugged back. “You owe me big time for this, Luis,” she laughed.

He pulled back and made a tiny smirk. “Oh, you have _no_ idea,” he giggled. Hope was about to demand an answer until Luis ducked out of her grip. “Gotta get back to work! Sorry babe– I’ll text you details!” he snickered as he ran back behind the counter to greet more customers.

Hope shook her head as Luis got away with his plans. Sure, she trusted Luis, but he always has a lot up his sleeve that she was dying to know about. She grabbed her bag of coffee beans and left.

* * *

Hours later, Hope was seated at the kitchen table, poring over her assignments. She figured she begin getting ahead of schedule since she now had to free up a mass amount of her day to be in a photoshoot. Hope began a mess of papers and every now and then checked her phone amongst her studying, praying Luis was playing some sick prank. After a few hours and no ‘ _gotchaa! just relax_ ’ text, she sighed and put her forehead on the cool surface of the glass. After a few moments she heard Ava enter the apartment but didn’t lift her head to greet her. She mumbled into her folded hands, face still pressed into them, “Hey there, coffee stealer,” Hope jeered.

The sound of boots dropping to the floor and the sliding of the coat hangers carried down the short hall to the kitchen. A lilted, english accent followed suit. “Coffee stealer?!” Ava feigned offence. “I specifically remember you saying you were trying to lay off the caffeine for a while,” her breath caught at the sight of Hope.

Hope heard Ava’s footsteps grow nearer. She looked up to Ava’s light green eyes, a shadow of disappointment behind them. She sat up. “What is it?”

Ava jerked her head to the homework and waved Hope’s empty coffee cup in her hand. “I should have never enabled you with coffee duty,” she shook her head.

Hope nodded, dismissing the fact that Ava found her to be _too_ studious. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have made me go,” she groaned. “Luis might have _finally_ talked me into a photoshoot.”

Enthusiasm shone in Ava’s eyes and her mouth fell open in shock. She grinned and threw the paper cup over her shoulder. “You’re joking!”

Hope was pulled to her feet by her roommate and she couldn’t help but squirm and squeal as Ava grabbed her face. “Oh my god, _yes_ , Ava! I’m finally going to be in front of a camera!” she rolled her eyes and chuckled. It never occurred to her that she had shied away from cameras often enough that her friends would find this event so awfully miraculous.

Ava held her back at arm’s length. “You’re going to _finally_ be the model we’ve all been calling you, eh?” she began to mock pose and vogue between every word. “Don’t–forget me–when–you’re famous!”

Hope snorted. “Please, I only promised Luis one photoshoot– what’s the big deal? He needs the photos for school.”

Her roommate rolled her eyes and walked across the apartment. “I don’t know, maybe it’s a big deal because it’ll finally look like you live here too,” she gestured to the wall where a print of herself sitting cross legged and wearing a giant fluffy sweater hung. “There’s maybe about two pictures of yourself around the place. And it makes me look like a massive arsehole.”

Hope outwardly laughed at her friend’s deprecating comment and stood to meet her in the living room where she stared at the photo scrutinizingly, arms crossed and brow furrowed. She put her head on Ava’s shoulder and sighed. “You’re beautiful, babe.”

Ava chuckled and looked down at her. “Oh, that I know for _sure_ –” she dramatically spun Hope to look at her. “but do _you_ know that you’re fucking _gorgeous_ as hell?” she tilted her head.

Hope rolled her eyes and pushed Ava’s face away from her own. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not, Hope.”

“And how do you know that, genius?”

“Because you wouldn’t be so damned _alone_ all the time,” Ava admitted as she plopped down on the couch. She crossed her arms again and faced her now slightly offended best friend. “Hope, you’re an incredible person; you’re smart, funny, determined...but _no_ _one_ knows that about you because you’re married to your job and your studies!” she rolls over and tosses a pillow Hope’s direction. “I know you like to call it independence. And for that I respect you tons,” her eyes softened. “But you of all people deserve to get yourself out there...meet more people–in a _social_ setting– to break out of your shell! The world would love you.”

Hope sits still for a moment, absorbing the reality check that Ava served her while she cuddled the pillow. Chewing her lip, she looked into Ava’s pleading eyes. “I hate you because you’re right,” she admitted as she poked the girl with her foot. “maybe I do need to stop burying myself,” she thought out loud, wary that modeling would cause vanity to poison her mind.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ava’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “But Luis and his friends are really fun; and for once, you don’t have to think too... _calculatingly_ , about it,” she laughed to herself and tugged Hope’s pant leg. “C’mon, how ‘bout a drink as a toast to turning over new leaves, eh?” she nodded towards the kitchen where a bottle of moscato sat chilling in their fridge.

Hope allowed herself to smile at that one. “I still don’t know why you bought alcohol last night rather than coffee,” she jeered, “But I guess you saw into the future of some sort– let’s celebrate!” she stretched her leg back out, pushing Ava off the couch entirely as she snickered and hid behind the pillow.

The pair spent the rest of their night giggling behind their several glasses of wine and fell asleep on the couch to a cheesy Netflix original. Hope’s worries on the photoshoot had dissipated quickly, and in the morning, she found herself looking forward to trying a multitude of new things. 

* * *

It’s now been a week.

Hope had another day off, but not quite. Today was Luis’ photoshoot, and who knows how much of a workload it’ll be having to deal with him and his team all day.

She stood in the bathroom, staring intently through shower fog back at her own reflection. An eyelash on her cheek. A small bite in her lip. A funky indentation on her face from sleeping too soundly under her wrinkly bed sheets. She smiled– _this_ was the beautiful face that Luis so desperately wanted to photograph.

As per her friend’s instructions, Hope had left her apartment in a simple white shirt and shorts. She grabbed a cup of coffee from Foster’s (from a new, even creepier barista named Darren, _ew_ ) and was well on her way to some warehouse deeper in the city. She figured timeliness would be impressive to the guys.

Hope van Dyne sat on a blue bench across the street, staring at the building in question. It was a cube of aged brick and dusty windows, but with proper light fixtures and signage at its front. She was 39 minutes early, so she sat with the freedom to do her own thinking. But then it felt as if her watch’s arm was growing more tired and slow, and it was an aggravating thought to settle on when you truly have nothing else planned to worry about.

The sun beat on her neck and she began to feel sweaty and gross. Standing up and approaching the studio again as a way to relieve her impatient energy, she began to hear voices from beyond the building’s front door. _Did someone walk in while she wasn’t paying attention?_

She cocked her head and stepped closer to the storefront. Didn’t sound like Luis.

 _How many people were going to be watching her? Is she going to have to talk to way more people than just Luis and his ‘team’? Are there other models that’ll be judging her? Why the_ hell _did she agree to this?_

Hope pressed her body against the old window, attempting a peek inside. She spotted movement and heard voices mixed with the dull bass of some poppy music from Luis’ playlist, but–

“You know you can just walk right in, right?” a voice came up dangerously close to Hope’s ear.

She yelped and elbowed the source of the mysterious voice. She spun around and glared the man who stepped back from just leaning over her shoulder. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?!”

He stood a couple inches taller than her, with dark fluffy hair and a wrinkly grey t-shirt on. He was clutched the spot where her sharp elbow jabbed his ribcage and shouldered a backpack littered with small pins of bands and comic book heroes; he shuffled on heavy black boots while Hope studied him. The guy was a relatively average looking; probably not one of those art students Luis hung out with.

But he had warm eyes. Could’ve been welcoming, even charming, though his expression now showed a shadow of resentment as he looked at her and shrugged. “I’m sorry, just wondering why you’re acting so _sketchy_ ,” he gestured around them. “You’re on a busy street in the middle of San Francisco and you look like you’re about to commit a felony.”

Hope crossed her arms and scoffed. “Well you had no business getting all up in my space like that,” she fought back, although her face was reddening with the realization that he might have been right regardless. Her nerves wanted to both look through the window again and argue with the mystery man again, annoyed with how easily he let her remarks roll of his shoulders. She couldn’t quite place him, and he already looked like he was getting comfortable being the tiny rock in her shoe that she could tell would bug her all day.

Nonetheless, he chuckled and put his hands up in surrender. “Actually, it kind of _was_ my busi–”

She began to tap her foot. Bold.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, I apologize for getting in your _space_ ,” he waved his arms around and tried to hide a smile. “but you really should get used to it...”

She was close to interrogating him further until the familiar voice of Luis came muffled behind the glass, along with some furious knocking. Hope and the random guy turned to see their mutual friend smiling stupidly and waving at the two of them. She offered a grim smile back while the boy threw up a peace sign dodged past her to join him inside.

 _Damn, he_ is _one of Luis’ friends. And they didn’t get off to a good start._

  
Hope followed at quite the distance from Luis and the stranger and took her time observing the few contents of the otherwise unoccupied building. A fake fern in the corner. A buzzing neon sign in a curly font no one could read. A littered desk that looked like it was picked up from a rummage sale. She wondered about the building’s history and began building a story in her head.

When they turned a corner, cold concrete soon met worn, wooden floorboards and the three of them entered a wider open space littered with random props, umbrella lights, various camera gadgets, and untidy clothing racks. The walls continued with its exposed brick aesthetic finished with dark cast iron details in the beams that hung above. Dirty skylights at the right angle allowed diffused squares of light to hit right in the center of the room, where a simple white screen and a stool awaited. Hope was reminded of cringey yearbook photos.

She walked into the middle of the mess that was Luis’ art and whistled. “This is no joke, Luis,” she exclaimed as she arrived at the clothing racks and thumbed through some flowy garments. “And these clothes are beautiful,” she admired a silky blush colored dress.

Luis walked towards her, smiling, a taller man close behind.

His friend had darker skin and a sweet smile that made his eyes crinkle up. He donned a chunky grey beanie in the middle of summer, but Hope had to respect that; the guy was well dressed in a long graphic tee, ripped jeans and clean shoes. Even topped it off with some dog tags. Pretty fresh.

“Aw, thanks, Hope,” Luis said, accepting the compliment and tossing an arm around the guy. “But _this_ is who you should be complimenting: meet Dave, our costume guy!”

Dave smiled again as Hope made an attempt to shake his hand, but he pulled her into a hug leaving her with an outward gasp in surprise. “Aye, Hope, nice to finally meet you,” he greeted coolly. “Luis told us tons about you!”

The rather squished woman laughed and returned the hug. She responded as they pulled back. “Funny, since I haven’t heard much about you three, not even names,” her eyes narrowed at Luis. “What have you been telling them?”

A third voice called out and bounced off the walls. A pale, lanky guy emerged from behind the backdrop screen to match it. “Only that you’re shy and don’t want to do this,” he says blatantly. He’s wearing cargo pants and a faded purple SFSU shirt. There’s a small tool belt around his waist and he leans against a giant barrel-like set piece that Hope has no idea the use of. “I’m Kurt; set design.”

She’s again shocked at the bluntness in his tone (and the weird seriousness he has with his job of building wooden boxes) and tries to laugh it off. “Well, I wouldn’t call myself shy, seeing as I’ve gotten this far...” she tries to justify.

Hope looks at Luis for backup to make her feel better and for once, he has no words as he and Dave are too distracted trying to pick out an outfit for her. His whispers about how puce green will look terrible on her aren’t quiet at all, if that’s what they were trying. She thinks puce is probably no one’s color, but there’s no longer a point in mentioning that as Luis tosses the moss colored dress into a growing pile of clothes.

“That’s only because Luis begged you though, didn’t he?” the stranger speaks up again. Hope turns and he’s approaching her again, although this time with her knowledge of it. He sits on a table and his hazel eyes stares into her own, voice condescending disguised as curiosity. “You’ve been shooting him down for ages; why the change of heart?” he arches a brow. _What’s he trying?_

She looks pointedly between him and Luis, and still, he’s preoccupied. _So much for introducing me to_ your _friends Luis._ She notes. The recent memory of Luis’ voice exclaiming, ‘ _You’ll love hanging out with us for a day!_ ’ bounces around her mind. _Well. This one is kind of an asshole._

Clearing her throat and avoiding his gaze, she sighs, deciding to tell the truth at first rather than attempt snarkiness. “Figured I’d enjoy life more if I ventured out of my comfort zone; going to new places, trying new things…” she smirks at the still unnamed friend of Luis. “...trying to figure out how to tolerate new people.”

He sizes her up, hopping off the table to lock eye-level with her. “Tolerate,” he repeats, amused. Hope can tell there’s many gears milling around in his mind as he tries to read her back. After a moment, he speaks.“Sounds like quite the challenge,” he offers. “So, you enjoying yourself, Hope?”

She takes it. It’s kind of hot, what they’re doing. Whatever that is. But Hope shoves the thought to the back of her mind. She blinks slowly. “You’re my biggest threat; you tell me.”

Her comeback is returned so smoothly that for a clear moment, it leaves him stunned. She smiles as the boy opens and closes his mouth trying to figure out what’ll sound cool next. He fails and chuckles to himself. “Well...I’m Scott,” he sticks out a hand in between them for her to shake. “And I told you to get used to that whole personal space thing; I work on hair and makeup.”

Of all people for her to be spending intimate time with for the day, it had to be the most difficult member of Luis’ team. _Of course._

She shakes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Nice, chapter 1 is finally out after I've screamed about it on twitter for what's felt like weeks. I'm not used to this fic writing thing, really, but I'm having fun so I hope you all are as well <3
> 
> If you like this fic and LOVE scotthope, check out my twitter @scotthopeful. I talk about hardly anything else, and I occasionally post sneak peeks!
> 
> P.S. I believe the college they attend is a real one but don't worry about that at all, please. That's the last thing I care about pLEASE


End file.
